


Redemption

by lara_s



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4658898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lara_s/pseuds/lara_s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winn/Dukat.  What can I say?  They are perfect for each other!  This is a Winn & Dukat realize the errors of their ways and fall for each other story.  I'm not entirely certain it works but I think it has potential.  Comments are welcome.  I may come back and edit it at some point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redemption

Anjohl strokes my cheek and places a kiss on my forhead. Telling me he’s going to freshen up, he disappears into the back rooms. I let out a content sigh and watch him leave. I am the Kai of Bajor. The spiritual leader of my people and of this planet. And here I am, giddy as a teenager mooning over her first love. So much has changed and so quickly over the last few days since he came into my life. Little do I know how this is only the beginning. For the moment, I simply sit and smile, contemplating my lover.

When I first met Anjohl there was an instant spark of attraction. On my part at least and I felt sure I saw the same reflected in his eyes. It certainly wasn’t the first time I’ve felt something like that, but it doesn’t happen very often. I am not someone prone to distracting romantic interludes. My station comes first, always. I will not allow anything to take precedence over my work. And really, few, if any, would dare to approach their Kai with such a proposition. Sure, I’ve taken a few lovers here and there in the past, though none since becoming Kai. If I’m truthful, in moments of weakness, I will admit that it’s a rather lonely path I have chosen.

Nothing more than a simple farmer he claims, but there is such a presence about him. His pagh stronger than any I’ve ever known. There is something about him that intrigues me greatly. It is as if he sees right into the very depths of my soul. Never have I let anyone truly get to know me. Anjohl seemed to already know me from the start. He’s the only one I’ve ever told about my disillusionment and anger at the prophets. He not only understands, but has a solution offering me the power of the Pah-Wraiths.

Anjohl tempts me in other ways as well. There is a physical passion between us I didn’t believe possible. I normally scoff at such fluffy nonsense, but I am quickly coming to believe he is someone I could love. Really, I am half in love with him already.

Lost in these pleasant thoughts, I am irritated when Sobar bursts in without invitation. He tells me my lover’s true identity. His reveal shocks me clear down to the very core of my being. I don’t want to believe, but I immediately recognize the truth of it. A thousand jumbled thoughts run through my head all at once. My heart beats wildly. I can barely take a breath. I have never felt such complete and utter panic grip me. I have never felt so out of control. It is terrifying.

Sobar falls at my feet, my knife in his back, as he turns to leave. In my frenzied state I don’t even think twice about killing him. All I know is that I can’t let him leave this room. I can’t let this get out, can’t have it become public knowledge that I have been consorting with none other than the butcher of Bajor!

Panic quickly turns to a white hot anger. “Adami, you idiot,” I curse myself vehemently under my breath. “How could you let him fool you like this? How did you not see the signs? You let your lust and foolish dreams blind you. This is what comes of silly little fantasies about love and living happily ever after. Have you learned nothing? Such things never come true. Oh, how could you be so stupid Adami! Dukat of all people!”

Then, I turn the anger on him squarely where it belongs. “Get out,” I hiss with a vengeance. “Take care of this,” I say, frantically gesturing at Sobar, “and leave now before I stab you as well!”  

“Adami, please,” His voice is like cool spring wine, so sweet and seductive. Hearing my name on his lips makes me want to forgive him anything and melt into a puddle back in his arms. But oh no, not this time. The anger and pain of being betrayed and knowing who he really is keeps me strong to resist him.

“GET OUT,” I repeat. Surprisingly, he leaves without a fuss and without saying another word.

On shaking legs, I collapse into my desk chair. For the rest of the afternoon I sit there in a daze. Lost in thought again and this time it’s no longer pleasant daydreams.

I remember my life before the Cardassians when I was a very young girl. What I remember is not so much specifics, but rather, a general sense of comfort and security. Of laughter and happiness. Contentment. Emotions that have eluded me throughout my life ever since. The occupation took from me, and a whole generation of Bajorans, the carefree childhood we should have had. I think I’m entitled to be somewhat bitter about that.

I saw my mother taken away. Sent to a labor camp, murdered or set up as some Cardassian’s comfort woman, I don’t know. I never have found out what became of her. I saw my father beaten, forced to kneel at their feet and do their bidding. We Bajorans are a stubborn, prideful people. My father was no exception. When I saw the Cardassians finally break him, anger rose within me so fiercely it frightened me. I knew, at that moment, I was going to make them pay for what they’d done to me and to Bajor.  

Burning with a new purpose, I got myself out of that backwater village at the first chance that presented itself. There was nothing there for me anymore. My opportunity arose when a traveling Vedek came passing through. I managed to convince him, with tears and honeyed words, that I was destined for a life in the religious order. In a way, perhaps it was the truth. He took me with him and I didn’t look back.

Back then, I really did believe in the prophets and did my best to serve them. For a time anyway, I was devoted. I taught the faith and the Cardassians eventually threw me in one of their prison camp for five years because of it. I still have the scars and memories of the beatings to show for it. Fools like Kira Nyres and others who spent the occupation with phasers in their hands dare look down on me for not being a part of their resistance. They are hot headed idiots. I worked to bring down the Cardassians just as much as they did, if not more. It was surprising how easily most Cardassian guards could be bribed to look the other way. I saved many of my countrymen. And in doing so, I garnered their respect and continued to rise to prominence within the religious order. I never doubted the prophets back then. I had confidence they had chosen me for greatness.  

Then, we finally get rid of the Cardassians but replace them with Starfleet! A different kind of occupation true, but I saw Starfleet as the enemy nonetheless. How I was furious when Opaka named Sisko as emissary of the prophets. Absurd! This was, perhaps, when my faith began to waiver. How could that human interloper hear the voices of the prophets when they were silent to me, their loyal subject? I’d sacrificed too much by that point. I wasn’t going to share Bajor with any more outsiders and set about to make sure of it any way I could. I did what I believed was right for my people. I was blind to how my own ego got in the way.

How I have strayed! How could I have ended up in the arms of a Cardassian, plotting the downfall of my gods? Killing one of my closest advisors in cold blood to protect my secret? I can’t blame Dukat really. He only spoke what I was all too willing to hear. I latched on to his every word and never questioned him.

It becomes evident to me that the Pah-Wraths are not the answer. The spell they had cast, the promise of power so tantalizing, is broken now. Seeing clearly for once, I weep for those I have wronged over the years. I weep for the young innocent girl I once was and the bitter, mixed up, misguided woman I’ve become. The magnitude of my sins and the blood on my hands is almost too much to tolerate.

After a time, I manage to collect myself and a plan begins to form. I know what I need to do. Nerys spoke the truth when she said I should step down as Kai. I see that now. I cannot make up for what I have done, but I can attempt to correct some of my wrongs at least.

Grabbing some paper from the desk, I scribble a note and called for one of the initiates to come run an errand for me. “Go immediately and find my companion Anjohl,” I tell her. “He’ll be in one of the camps outside the city. Give him this”. I hand her the letter. “Go with the prophets child, this is their work we do here once again.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

She has cast me out and I feel strangely lacking as a result. I didn’t argue with her, for once there wasn’t much I could say. I am not used to being at a loss for words. At the moment, I do nothing more than wander aimlessly down the canal path enjoying the scenery. This world has always attracted me. As Anjohl, I am welcome here, was welcomed by the Kai herself until she realized my deception. For a short time I was accepted on Bajor and revealed in it, but like usual, not to last. She has the upper hand now, but I sense things are not finished between the Kai and I. My instinct tells me to bid my time and stay here a bit longer. I can be a patient man when necessary.

Ever since I was first sent to Bajor, I knew there was something special about this place. I never could have imagined though, just how much the fate of this planet and my own destiny would become so inexplicably intertwined.

So unlike Cardassia, Bajor is a lush, bountiful, world. Or at least it once was. History vilifies us and the occupation, but what history tends to forget is that we Cardassians were in the midst of a famine like no other. We were dying. Bajor refused our initial very reasonable offers of trade. The do-gooder Federation certainly wasn’t stepping in to help us. What else could we do? There were no other options. Cardassia was desperate. We had the superior might and the superior ability so we took what we needed. Survival of the fittest and all that.

I have been a military man through and through. It’s what I was born into and what I’ve known all my life. A great conqueror of glorious victories for the Cardassian state! I recall my first mission on board the Kornaire as a newly appointed Glinn. I’ll never forget it. Set to cleaning up what was left of men who went through an explosive decompression chamber. The smell, the blood, it was nauseating. My training had been extensive; I thought I was prepared for anything. I hadn’t been prepared for that. I wasn’t able to sleep for a week. It is still one of the more vivid recollections that haunt me. And yet, since then, I’ve managed to become accustomed to the gore and violence of my chosen profession. One learns rather quickly how to suppress the rather disturbing aspects of what one must do.  

As prefect of Bajor, I was arrogant enough to truly believe myself a merciful leader. By that point, the occupation was getting out of hand. Things were not going as expected, the resistance growing. I was under tremendous pressure to deal with an impossible situation. I offer, not as an excuse for my actions, but by way of an explanation, that I was following orders. Do you not know what the Cardassian government does to those who defy their orders?

Even still, I did what I could. I tried to make things easier for my wayward rebellious children of Bajor. Attempted to shelter them from the worst of the atrocities ordered by Central Command. It made me the laughing stock of Cardassia Prime, but I was insistent it was the right thing to do. Of course, the thanks I got was one assassination attempt after another from the Bajorans. They hated me, blamed me for all the horrors of the occupation. I was, still am, the figure head at which they place their righteous anger.

A man can only take so much. It got to me then and it still gets to me now. I coped by trying to absolve myself in the arms of various Bajoran women. Considering Adami, perhaps I’ve never stopped this behavior. The Bajoran woman I pursued never managed to sooth my ego for long. Of course not. They stayed with me out of fear or because of the trinkets and security I provided them. Eventually they wouldn’t be able to hide their disgust any longer and I’d get irritated and send them away. Of them all, Tora perhaps, was the only one who actually came to care for me. Tora and I imagined a life together with Ziyal.

Ah, Ziyal. Such bittersweet memories there. I have Major Kira of all people to thank for my daughter. She surprised me, Kira did, with the way she fought for the girl. Sweet, innocent Ziyal. For her, I gave up my family and my position.

I wasn’t done though. I wanted Ziyal and I wanted Cardassia. The Dominion alliance was my ticket back to a position of influence. I grabbed it. Such glee I felt taking back Terrok Nor. Glee that was cut much too short for my tastes.

Of all the times for Damar to finally grow a backbone and take the initiative, he does so by killing my daughter. How ironic. He blamed Ziyal for turning me against Cardassia. Strictly speaking, he was not wrong to do so. Ziyal –had- changed me.

The events following Ziyal’s death are mostly a hazy blur to me. I was a lost soul, finally pushed over the edge of sanity. My mind finally cracked. In the midst of the madness, the Pah-Wraiths offered a way out. A purpose to follow and a way to fill the void that Ziyal’s loss left.  

The messenger from Adami intrudes upon my contemplation. I hold the letter, apprehensive, before breaking the seal:

                _As you read this, it is done. I am destroying the book. The Pah-Wraths must not be released. If I fail, and I may, resist them, I implore you. If there is any concern for Bajor and its people, do not allow what we have set in motion to continue. We were wrong. I don’t imagine that’s very easy for either one of us to accept. Don’t forget, I read your Pagh. Although it almost pains me to say it, you are not necessarily the monster I once believed. There’s a chance you’ll heed my warning. Go with the prophets._

Her words shock me, though they are not entirely unexpected. Adami’s faith in the prophets is stronger than even she realized it seems. As for me, I’ve decided I don’t care about the Pah-Wraths much myself anymore. If I’m not going to be ruling a new Bajor with her by my side, I find I don’t want to do it after all.

Who would have thought? In short order, I’ve come to know the real Winn Adami. A passionate, intelligent woman. The only woman I’ve found, with the possible exception of Major Kira, capable of holding her own with me. In the Kai, I discovered a kindred spirt.

To destroy the book of Kosst Amojan though, is madness. To do so will almost certainly kill her. I head toward the city at a run. Her note seems to imply a certain amount of forgiveness of my transgressions. Or, more likely, I am imagining any sort of clemency from her. Either way, I doubt my presence is going to be very welcome. But, then again, she did ask for my help in a way, so it gives me the excuse I need to go.

Security at the Kai’s compound, as I already knew from my brief time spent living there, is laughable and easily side-stepped by someone with the skills such as I. By now it is dark and at this late hour, no one is up wandering the halls. As anticipated, I slip into her quarters with no trouble at all.

“Adami!” She lay unmoving, crumpled in a heap on the floor. The room is trashed as if a powerful wind storm had come raging through. Or, more accurately, I surmise, raging angry spirits. Furniture is overturned, belongings strewn about, the walls streaked with soot. From the doorway, I can see her golden Kai’s robes scorched by fire. It is as if her entire body has been engulfed by flames. Her hands and arms appeared badly burned, though her face at least appears untouched.

In front of her, what little is left of the damn book smolders, turning into ash. Clearly, she has been successful in her task to destroy it, though at a great cost to herself. It must have happened not long before my arrival. Coming closer, I realize with some hope that she is, surprisingly, still alive, though only just barely.

I quickly consider the options. I can raise a scene, call for a doctor. However, I suspect in this act of finality in banishing the Pah-Wraths, she intended, wanted, to die here. This could be an opportunity though, I mused, for the Kai to die but Adami to be re-born.

Turning from the unconscious woman at my feet, I quickly grab a bag from her quarters and toss in some clothing and toiletries. I remove her singed robes, the regalia of her esteemed position, and leave them unceremoniously on the floor. Who knows what the next person to come in will make of the scene. I don’t care. Doesn’t concern either one of us at this point. If Adami survives this and wants to come back to explain, she’ll be free to do so. I doubt she will. I wasn’t going to hold her against her will. But I was going to take her with me for now. With that, I pick her up, wrap her in a more inconspicuous cloak and abscond with the former Kai of Bajor in my arms.

I take us a couple blocks towards the city center and, pretending she is my wife passed out from too much spring wine, get us a room at a place that doesn’t look too carefully or ask any questions. It isn’t ideal, but it will do for a day or two until I can figure out what is next. Or, until she dies. But I don’t let myself think about that.

No one gets through a long career as a professional soldier without becoming passingly familiar with basic medical care. I tend to her burns and make her as comfortable as possible. I fear the Pah-Wraths have damaged her mind along with the physical injuries, but there is no way to tell with her unconscious and nothing I can do about it regardless.

I hold my vigil over her bedside. It is a long night. Guilt is not an emotion I typically allow myself to get very familiar with, but tonight it is my constant companion.

I had only set out to gain her confidences so as to obtain her assistance in my scheme to release the Pah-Wraths. I didn’t intend to seduce her, that wasn’t part of the plan at all. It was wrong, I know. So incredibly right but so wrong of me to let it happen at all. In a way it was her who seduced me.

As she lay sleeping in my arms that first time we were together, I ran my hand through her glorious unbound hair and tried to convince myself that my deceit could be kept hidden. In my typical self-assured way, I thought I could stay Bajoran, keep from her the truth and she’d never know who it really was who held her. I was, and still am, more than willing to remain as Anjohl to stay with her. The two of us together would usher in and lead a new Bajor! We would be unstoppable. It was an intoxicating dream.

I was going to tell her. Truly I was. Then that meddling Sobar intervened before I could and didn’t give me the chance. In a way, I’m glad he did. Adami deserved to know. I couldn’t continue on otherwise. I am not completely without scruples after all. My Adami is full of fire. She’ll do her best to destroy me if she wakes up and for good reason. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to convince her otherwise.

The hours pass. At some point she regains consciousness for a moment, speaks my name, my real name, not the Bajoran one, and then she is out again. By morning her breathing eases and her rest seems more peaceful. I start to think it likely she will come to and survive.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A bright flash of white light. Indistinct voices all around me. I am standing on a ledge over-looking a field of Kava plants that spreads out as far as the eye can see. The view is hauntingly familiar in some way, but I can’t quite place it. It must be some place I saw once but have since forgotten. “What is this?” I ask. Where am I? Am I dead?”

Sisko, but I realize it’s not really Sisko, is standing next to me. “Your physical body still lives. Your path is not over. The game continues.”

“Prophets!” I sink to my knees horrified. I don’t know what to say, faced with the gods I have betrayed. “I am unworthy. I have failed you,” I finally manage to choke out. Empty words for what I have done, I know, but they are heartfelt. If you still allow me to serve you, I will not stray from the faith again.” Head bowed and eyes downcast, I am not sure what to do.

The form of Opaka appears. “The Winn understands,” she says. “Is repentant. Sees now the consequences of her actions.”

“She is dangerous. Adversarial,” this from Bareil. I wince seeing his likeness, recalling the real Bareil and his unselfish faith, so unlike my own.

“She understands,” repeats Opaka. “She is like the Sisko once was.”

In an instant, the Kava field disappears and I’m back at the prison camp. The rotten smell of death and despair assaults me as I relive moments from that time. The harsh lash of the whip. The crack of Cardassian knuckles across my face. I scream in terror as I never did when the beatings actually happened.

“You are stuck in this place,” Opaka says. “Your experiences here have shaped your actions. You must move on to heal. You are of Bajor, but you will find your peace only by leaving here. My staying you will only know suffering. You fulfill your destiny in the stars with the other one.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I come out of the vision in an unfamiliar room with Anjohl/Dukat at my side looking at me with concern. I am not surprised at his presence. Almost as if I’ve been expecting him, he is familiar, and dare I say it, even welcome.

“Prophets,” I mutter in awe. “The Prophets just spoke to me. What the hell happened?” I ask him.

“You nearly killed yourself sending the Pah-Wraths back to where ever it was they came from,” he replies. “As far as Bajor is concerned, the Kai has vanished without a trace, presumed dead, under rather mysterious circumstances. So far, popular opinion is leaning towards either a traitor in your cabinet of ministers or the Dominion as being responsible.” He grins. “No one seems to suspect being kidnapped by a Cardassian, I should be insulted.”

He takes my hand. I don’t pull away. “Bajor is nothing if not resilient,” he says. They’ll get over it, elect a new Kai and life will go on. Even without you to lead them. Unless you want to go back?”

“No, I don’t think so…” My voice trails off.

“Then come with me Adami,” he implores.

“The prophets did tell me I’d find peace only in leaving,” I say, somewhat sadly.

“If you stay, no matter how good your intentions, it will only be a matter of time before it drives you crazy that you’re no longer shaping the path of the planet. We must keep you from temptation my dear.”

“You’re probably correct on that account as well,” I sigh, but smile at him. Exile is rather fitting, all things considered. “So what do you suggest we do? Where do we go? I’ve hardly ever left Bajor before.”

“First, I’m taking you to Risa for some much needed relaxation. Then perhaps we’ll join a freighter and travel the galaxy. Or settle on a colony somewhere and live the simple life. Whatever we desire.”


End file.
